


Never too old for legends

by ineptshieldmaid



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Aging, Gen, Gender, Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alanna had not expected to like growing old. And, sure enough, there was plenty not to like about the process. Stiff joints, old wounds that twinged and bothered her at odd times, new wounds that took too long to heal.</p><p>But she was hearty and strong and in better shape than many knights her age. When the day came that she began to lose ground on the practice courts, when age-hardened sinew and decades of experience had to give way to youth and vigour, the expected backlash never emerged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never too old for legends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liesofdesire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesofdesire/gifts).



Alanna had not expected to like growing old. And, sure enough, there was plenty not to like about the process. Stiff joints, old wounds that twinged and bothered her at odd times, new wounds that took too long to heal.

But she was hearty and strong and in better shape than many knights her age. When the day came that she began to lose ground on the practice courts, when age-hardened sinew and decades of experience had to give way to youth and vigour, the expected backlash never emerged.

'Well fought,' she said, lowering her sword and offering her opponent, the one of the Nond boys, her hand. He was red in the face already, and if possible he grew redder at her praise.

'It's an honour, sir,' the young knight said. Francis, the same as his great-uncle. Goddess, but that made her feel old. 'Perhaps another time...?'

'Next time we're both in Corus,' Alanna promised him: the lad was off on a tour of the south coast the next day, and she would be home at Pirate's Swoop by the time he returned.

Spying her husband at the side of the court, she sheathed her sword and went to join him. George wrapped one arm around her waist as they watched the next pair of knights - Cleon of Kennan and a younger man Alanna didn’t recognise - take the court.

On the far side of the court, Francis’ friends were clapping him on the back, throwing glances over their shoulders at Alanna as they congratulated him.

'I keep waiting for one of them to say it's because I'm a woman,' Alanna said quietly, rubbing at her neck, which seemed to ache for no reason these days.

George turned a surprised look on her. 'Surely you don't think that, lass?'

'Stop it,' she grumbled. 'I'm too old to be anyone's lass. And of course _I_ don't think so. I just... well, I'm surprised no one else does.'

'You're my lass,' George said, as always. 'As for the lads down there - it's a badge of honour to beat the Lioness, even in practice. Any knight who calls you a weak woman must first be damn sure he can beat you - and then be willing to forgo the glory of having done so. No man was yet made knight whose pride wouldna stop him before he uttered a word against you.'

Alanna elbowed her husband in the ribs, hard. Forty years of marriage and nobility had somehow failed to instill in George due respect for the knightly profession; Alanna found it easiest to remind him by force.


End file.
